


No Substitutions, No Subtractions

by Squiggle_giggle



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Chef!Mickey, Chefs, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, EMT Ian Gallagher, Flirty, Funny, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Restaurants, Sex Toys, Waiters & Waitresses, chef, owner - Freeform, paramedic ian gallagher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squiggle_giggle/pseuds/Squiggle_giggle
Summary: Mickey is the Boss of his very own restaurant in the heart of Chicago. Ian, who has been out of town for three weeks, comes home early and decides that playing a joke on his husband is an opportunity too good to miss, orders the most ridiculous item he can think of which doesn't go down too well.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	No Substitutions, No Subtractions

**Author's Note:**

> Hi
> 
> So here is a new story
> 
> I hope you like it!

* * *

Ian pulled his black beanie further down over his ears, tightened the scarf around his neck as he stepped off the train into the bitingly cold Chicago winter evening. He stuffed his gloved hands into his thick dark grey puffer jacket as he jogged down the steps of the train station into the busy street towards his husband's restaurant.

In their mid-thirties now, Mickey had found a flair for cooking he had never fully delved into. Sure, he had cooked for Ian before, if you call opening a packet, dumping it on a tray and throwing it in an oven, cooking, but after getting married and having a stable job he had more time on his hands to explore his interests.

It started slow, cooking eggs for breakfast rather than just pouring cereal into a bowl, then Mickey offering to help Lip or Ian at dinner time to feed the masses. Soon after he would find himself watching the cooking channel or seeking out videos on his phone in his free time. Sure, there had been disasters, the burnt paella, the horrendous food poisoning Ian had endured after one dodgy undercooked chicken alfredo and the poor curtains that had lost their lives in the deep fryer fire one summer.

When their parole was both over, Mickey left his security job and took an apprenticeship at a local restaurant, Ian worried about his husband being in such close proximity with all of those knives and his infamous short temper but when he returned home later that night, a huge smile on his face; he knew he had nothing to worry about. Fast forward five years, Mickey was fully qualified and now had opened and owned his own business, Ian was proud of his husband, it took a lot of effort for most people to achieve something of this magnitude but for Mickey Milkovich- sorry Gallagher, to achieve? It made him preen every time.

The redhead spied the brightly lit restaurant in the thin veil of snow falling around him and picked up his pace. He reached the door, he took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack, slid off his beanie and shook out his hair, attempting to style it. Ian walked up to the maître d desk, smiling when he saw that Mickey's sister, Mandy was the one in charge tonight. It took a few moments for her to notice but when she did, she grinned up at him and leapt to hug him.

"I thought you weren't getting in until later tonight," she greeted, holding him tight, her name badge digging into his chest slightly.

"I took an earlier flight." Ian had been out of town for three weeks. With Mick achieving his goals it had a struck a chord within himself as well, he had transitioned from an EMT to a paramedic. It seemed like a good idea at the time but he didn't realize how much work it would be, he did enjoy the challenge though. He had pushed through and graduated, not at the top of his class or anything like that but still graduated a few years ago.

To keep up his education he had been sent to New York three weeks ago for a refresher course, Ian had been excited about it honestly. Ian had tried to get Mick to come with him for some time away together but owning a business he couldn't get that much time off work but they did have a long weekend together with half a day of sightseeing then the rest of the trip they stayed inside of the hotel room, which wasn't exactly what Ian had planned but he enjoyed it regardless.

"Mick know you're here?" Mandy asked

"No, I thought I would surprise him," Ian told excitedly, "how is he?"

"Bitchy," Mandy grumbled with a sigh.

"Always is when he doesn't have something up his ass for a while."

"Oh my God! I did not need to know that about my brother!" Mandy choked, causing Ian to laugh hysterically. The friends chatted for a while, Mandy telling Ian about her recent hook up while the redhead recounted his events when he wasn't training in New York. He was halfway through a funny story about something that happened at the gym when the business phone rang, Mandy looked down and saw it was a call from the kitchen, confused as it was only 5 pm and the restaurant didn't open for another half hour she answered it. "Hello?"

"Tell every fuckface tonight we aren't changing the menu for them," Mickey's voice was loud and clear through the phone, Ian and Mandy smirked at each other. "I don't care if they are allergic, I don't care if they will die right there on the floor, no changing, no substitutions, no subtractions, got it?"

"Jimmy wants to change the menu again?" Mandy asked, unphased by her brother's brash tone.

"If people are allergic to something, order something that doesn't have the food your allergic to, in it. Why order shrimp scampi without shrimp for fuck sake!"

"I'll tell the customers," with that Mandy hung up. "Do me a favour and go fuck my brother, please?"

"Actually- "Ian was cut off as his phone started ringing, looking down he was unsurprised to see it was his husband.

"Hey, Mick."

"Hey, just wanted to catch you before your flight. Lip still cool to pick you up? You know I would but its Friday night and it's our busiest night for trade."

"Yeah about that," Ian started, smirking at Mandy who looked at him questioningly. "My flight has been delayed due to the snow, might not make it back until tomorrow or even Sunday."

"You liar!" Mandy whispered through a giggle.

"Seriously?" Mickey asked, sounding pissed and slightly defeated.

"What you miss me or something?"

"Fuck off," Mickey said, no heat behind it.

"I'll be there before you know it, I expect a big bowl of carbonara when I get back."

"You keep eating pasta you won't fit into those gold booty shorts anymore."

"Don't lie, you love your man with some extra meat on his bones."

"You're an idiot," Mickey chuckled.

"Love you too." Ian hung up and turned his attention back to Mandy. "So, what's with the no substitution thing?"

"New chef Jimmy," Mandy said, motioning with her thumb to the kitchen, "thinks we should be catering to a broader customer base. Mick's happy to offer gluten-free, dairy-free, vegetarian options but is not willing to change every item on the menu for every customer."

"Which is fair," Ian agreed, "surprised the guy still has a job."

"He's quick," Mandy shrugged, "good at his job just needs to learn to shut his mouth before Mick stabs him." A devious thought crossed Ian's mind and he smirked at his sister-in-law.

"I have a plan.

* * *

It was 7 pm on a Friday night, the busiest time of the night and Mickey's mind was a million miles away. He thought he would be pissed that his husband wouldn't be home tonight but honestly, it just made him sad, three long weeks of crawling into an empty bed by himself had been bad enough but to let himself get excited by the thought of Ian joining him and only for it to be dashed was worse.

"Where's that Salmon?" Eddy, a short sassy Puerto Rican who reminded Mickey a lot of himself, called. He looked down and realized that he was the one who was cooking the salmon and it was slightly charred on one side.

"Two minutes!" Mickey shouted back, taking it off the hot plate and over to a chopping board, cutting off the burnt edge.

"I need it now Mick, the rest of the order is ready."

"I said two minutes, so fuck off before I shove this salmon up your ass," Mickey replied, picking it up and placing it back on the burner to seal the new side he had created.

"Are you sure there isn't something else you want up your ass Mick?" Eddy asked innocently, garnishing the dishes as he smirked at his boss who replied with a middle finger. Moments later, Mick pushed through with the salmon, plated up and pressed the service bell for the waitress to take the meals to the table.

Mickey returned to his station and gave it a quick clean, listening as he heard another docket come through.

"Alright two orders," Jimmy barked, "order one, two chicken parm, one rare steak, one salmon. Order two, one chicken salad, one…." Mickey threw the paper towel he had been using to clean his benchtop in the bin before looking up.

"Chicken salad and what?"

"Um," Jimmy stammered, avoiding his boss' gaze. Having enough of his bullshit, Mickey moved forward and ripped the excessively long docket from his hand and glared at it.

  
  


Mickey stared at the docket for an excessively long time, the cogs in his brain slowly turning as he tried to process what the hell he was reading. He didn't even know where to begin, how the fuck was he supposed to cook any of this. Well for starters, he wasn't, there was no way. This was some sick joke.

"This your idea?" Mickey accused Jimmy a few moments later as he turned his steely glare at his employee.

"What?" Jimmy asked utterly perplex.

"You wanted the restaurant to be more inclusive, you get one of your friends to order this bullshit for you?" Mickey demanded, he walked back to his station and grabbed his biggest meat cleaver he had.

"What? No, do you think I'm that suicidal?" Jimmy asked non-plussed. He wasn't stupid, his boss might be on the straight and narrow now but he wasn't dumb enough to cross a Milkovich.

"You're fired," Mickey told, pointing the knife in his direction, "pack your shit and go."

"In the middle of service? There are 75 customers out there,"

"Don't care, fuck off. I'm going to deal with your fuckwit friends." With that, Mickey left the kitchen, giant meat cleaver in hand.

* * *

Meanwhile, unaware of the chaos they had caused, Mandy and Ian were giggling at the maître d counter before walking to the table they had just assigned to themselves.

"You realize Mickey is going to kill you like literally kill you; slow and painfully," Mandy tried to explain before falling into another rambunctious fit of giggles.

"Probably," Ian laughed. It had taken a lot of effort to find the perfect items to order. The pair had googled for a good twenty minutes before settling on the most ridiculous thing they could find or think up then try and put it through the register. He wished he could have seen his husband's face when he read the docket, he bet it would have been hilarious.

"Mandy!" Mickey shouted causing the pair to turn, seeing a fuming brunette storming towards the pair. Normally Mickey liked to keep a professional air in his restaurant but tonight he couldn't care less. Noticing that Mandy wasn't at her counter fueled his anger more, Mickey stalked to the table, seeing his sister and a man in a beanie sitting together. Using the element of surprise to his advantage he slammed the meat cleaver into the top of the table, causing the pair to jump in shock. "You put that order through? What kind of absolute fucking moron orders that huh?" Mickey spat with rage.

"Um… your husband," Ian smiled sheepishly, taking off his beanie that was covering his hair and most of his forehead before smiling in guilt up at Mickey.

"Ian," Mickey breathed in surprise.

"Sorry, we thought it would be funny. It wasn't a real order."

"Oh. Oh fuck," Mickey said as realization overcame him and colour drained from his face.

"What did you do?" Mandy asked.

"Fuck, I thought Jimmy was trying to prove a point and I fired him. Fuck. FUCK!" Mickey surged forward and roughly kissed Ian before running back to the kitchen, dodging waitress' as he went.

* * *

It was 11:30 pm, the restaurant was closed now and Ian had taken up residency of a quiet booth in the back reading the novel he didn't quite finish on the plane ride home. Hearing footsteps, he glanced up from his book to see a large bowl of chicken fettuccine carbonara and two folks being placed in front of him, his husband sliding into the booth next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"Thought you wanted me to be able to fit in those gold shorts," Ian asked as he swirled the pasta, glaring at the other man when he stabbed the piece of chicken he was going for with his fork and popped in his mouth with a smirk.

"Please, your fat ass hasn't fit into those for years," Mickey snorted, going back for more pasta.

"And what do you call this?" Ian asked, prodding lightly at Mickey's soft stomach, "hibernating for the winter?"

"Aye fuck off," Mickey told, attempting to stab the other man's hand with his folk. "you know what they say, never trust a skinny chef."

"Uh-huh," Ian rolled his eyes, "pretty decent pasta, I guess. 8 out of 10."

"Get fucked," Mickey chided through a mouthful of food, moving his folk through the bowl, "it's a 9.5 minimum."

"It would be," Ian started as his husband stole the piece of chicken he was going for again. Frustrated he grabbed the brunette's hand and guided the utensil to his mouth and ate the forkful, "if I could get some of the chicken."

"I need protein," Mickey said in way of explanation. "I've been on my feet for seven hours straight, you've sat on your ass here doing nothing."

"If you call going to the gym, working, flying back, travelling in rush hour traffic and getting back here early to see you, sitting on my ass doing nothing, then sure."

"Pretty sure you were sitting down for most of that," Mickey said playfully, lips twitching when Ian turned to glare at him.

"This is mine now," Ian said as he scooted over in the booth, taking his bowl of pasta with him. Ian shoveled a few forkfuls into his mouth before Mickey realized what was going on, once he did, he surged forward trying to take control and rescue his meal. Ian quickly swallowed his mouthful as he tried to fight over the bowl but it was quickly forgotten as Mickey played dirty and tickled his ribs. "No!" he squirmed and wriggled which only caused him to moved closer to the other man. Soon they were face to face, Mickey brought a hand up and cupped the other man's cheek and smiled lovingly at him.

"Ya miss me?"

"Of course, I did," Ian told earnestly. "I'm sorry about the order, Mandy and I thought it would be funny."

"It wasn't," Mickey groaned, resting their foreheads together as he closed his eyes tiredly. "I had to offer that stupid fuck an extra $3000 a year for him to agree to come back. He threatened to go to the Union for unfair dismissal and all this other bullshit if I didn’t offer him something to keep quiet. I Need to talk to the lawyers and work something out, rewrite his contract so he can't pull any more shit. Cocky bastard."

"I'm sorry."

"Give me a week, it'll be funny then. Eddy's already taken the dockets and wants to frame them as part of some 'stupidest order' plaque."

"Would an apology blow job make you feel better?" Ian asked as he placed kisses along the other's jawline.

"It's a start," Mickey said as he tried to play it cool, his voice cracking slightly.

"Then I could eat you out until you scream, listen to you make those breathy little moans," Ian whispered in the other's ear as his hand came to rest over Mickey's black chef pants, painfully slow he began to palm Mickey through the material.

"Yeah?" Mickey asked, his thumb running over his bottom lip as he tried to keep the smirk off his face.

"Uh-huh," Ian affirmed impishly, nipping at the shell on his ear as his hand slid under the pants but over his briefs, teasing just because he could. "tease you until you cum, not let you until I say so."

"Fuck, "Mickey muttered, feeling himself growing hard under Ian's touch.

"Make you beg for it, make you despe-"

"Hey Mickey!" both men were so caught up in themselves they forgot they weren't alone in the restaurant. Quickly removing his hand, Ian looked up to see Mandy approaching from the back office, giving them a skeptical look.

"Jesus Christ, what!" Mickey snapped.

"Um," Mandy stuttered, second-guessing her decision to interrupt. "the banking is out, like by a fair bit. Can you, come, help me?"

"You're old enough and ugly enough to figure it out yourself," Mickey told in frustration.

"It's the last thing I have to do before I can finish, so don't be a dick and help me."

"Alright, Jesus," Mickey said exasperatedly, making no effort to move.

"Well? Get up!"

"Unless you want me to follow you with a raging boner, go ahead, I'll be there in a minute," Mickey told her with absolutely no shame. Disgusted, she turned and walked back to the office. "Dumb bitch."

"How much longer are you gonna be?" Ian asked conversationally, putting his novel back into his messenger bag then fishing out his beanie and gloves.

"I've just got to check in with Mandy, lock up then I'm good to go," Mickey explained, reaching over for the bowl of pasta and taking a few bites. "finish your food and take the bowl to the kitchen when you're done."

Ian sat there and ate the rest of his meal while Mickey headed off to the office. When he was finished, he cleaned his bowl, gathered his belongings before going to find his husband when he noticed that he had been gone for a long time. As he entered the office, he saw Mickey with his arms crossed, fuming while Mandy couldn't keep a smirk off her face.

"What's going on?" Ian asked curiously.

"Asked the stupid bitch," Mickey spat.

"Shut it, dickhead," Mickey sneered.

"Alright, alright children," Ian laughed, stepping in between the fighting siblings.

"Tell him why the banking doesn't balance," Mickey challenged.

"It doesn't balance because," Mandy sighed, "I forgot to cancel our order we put through and it was never paid for."

"I'm docking your pay for wasting time with this bullshit."

"Ian, please," Mandy pleaded, walking over and placing her hands on his shoulders, "go fuck my brother."

"What do you think I was trying to do before?" Ian asked with a wicked smile causing his sister-in-law to grimace.

"I'm going, make sure you bleach all the surfaces when you're done," with that she left. Mickey waited until he heard the backdoor close before he moved towards his husband, only for the other man to cover his hands with his own and still them.

"Come on man my balls are so blue they are basically black," Mickey complained, pawing at the button of redhead's jeans.

"I got some things in New York I want to use when we get home, I think I can make it worth your while," Ian promised, grabbing his husband's hands and placing a kiss to them. Mickey stood there glaring at Ian like a brooding toddler, the slightest hint of a pout before curiosity got the best of him.

"What things?"

"You'll just have to wait, go lock up ill meet you out the front."

"Tell me one," Mickey challenged.

"New Ben Wa beads, extra-large, that was a hell of an experience getting them past the TSA at the airport," Ian laughed, remembering back as they both watched the screen flash with his various new items, the attendant giving him strange looks before opening his bag and searching through it. He was cleared to travel but didn't miss the snickers he heard from the workers who checked his bags.

"Extra-large?" Mickey asked, a hint of excitement lighting up his features. Ian didn't respond, grabbed his bag and headed for the front door. As the redhead was waiting in the snow looking at his phone, he decided to light up a cigarette to try and keep himself warm, he was halfway through it when he felt it being stolen out of his mouth. Glancing up, he found Mickey puffing away, securing the locks and activating the security system before taking a long drag and offering the cigarette back to his husband. The couple walked hand in hand as they made the short journey a few blocks to their apartment, chatting idly. When they arrived home, Ian expected to be attacked as soon as they entered the door, to his surprise his husband went straight to his suitcase he had dumped on the couch when he had gotten back from the airport. Delicate as ever, the brunette unzipped the case an upended it, searching for his souvenirs. There were actual souvenirs in the suitcase but Mickey didn't seem too interested in them at the moment, playing with a vibrating egg that he found way too amusing.

Ian rolled his eyes, taking off his jacket as he watched his husband who now resembled an excited kid in some pornographic candy store, glad that he managed to talk to Eddy and convince him to cover Mickey's shift tomorrow so they could spend the whole weekend in bed… or on the couch or on the kitchen counter or maybe even up against the exposed brick wall on the fire escape?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is!
> 
> If you are interested, the idea behind this story was inspired by a conversation I had on Tinder with a chef! So shout out to you Tinder guy!
> 
> If Corona wasn't around who knows what could have happened haha.
> 
> Tell me what you think
> 
> Does anyone wanna see some smut? Let me know?
> 
> -Love Squiggle xx


End file.
